Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men Evolution. Marvel and Kid's WB do (and they better renew for a fourth season, dammit).

Author's Notes: I was inspired after reading Christy S's Scarlet Witch: Persona Non Grata and todd fan's Dark History, both of which are so very cool. I recommend you read them both.

So, obviously, this takes place after "The Toad, The Witch, And The Wardrobe," so go watch it if you haven't already.
This is written from Todd's point of view, alright? That should clear up any confusion, if there is any.

Review this, if you want. Positive reviews, negative reviews, constructive criticism, all of it's openly accepted (flame me, love me, hate me, adore me, I love it all, cause I'm untainted and still feel that any attention paid to my writing is good).

I Just Don't Know

I just don't know, sometimes.

I've learned something. Love can be a painful thing, both physically and emotionally. Especially in my case.

I'm madly in love with one Wanda Maximoff, and it hurts.

In a good and bad way.

When I bug her too much, she just shoots a hex-bolt at me, and it hurts. There's the physical pain.

Then there's the emotional pain. Oh sure, she'd flay me with her words, but that's no biggie. I mean, I'm the 'Frog Boy,' so I get that sort of thing a lot. No, there's emotional pain on a much higher level. And it all started on a cold mountain.

She was becoming a thorn in the side of her father, a psychotic mutant hell-bent on world domination. He locked her away as a young child, and now that she was free, revenge was her top priority.

But her father, Magneto, kidnapped her, and using a mutant named Mastermind, wiped her bad memories away, and replaced them with all new ones.

I rescued her from him, but not before the damage had been done. She remembered that she used to be upset with her father, but couldn't remember exactly why. The same went for her brother.

She hated Pietro just as much as her father, for standing back when he locked her away. But with the old memories washed away, she didn't remember that.

I remember when Wanda and I were talking about that...

"Ok, ok, ok!" I said. "Lemme get this straight. You mean, you're not mad at your father anymore?"

"Not really," she said, taking some books off a shelf and placing them into a box. "I know I was once, but it's funny, I just can't seem to remember why. It's all a blur."

And the proverbial light bulb went off in my head. "Maaaaan, they really did a number on your head! Well let me enlighten you, Schnookums," I began, using a pet name she had hated me using so much, "Well, you see, when you were a kid..."

A small tornado wooshed by, and I found myself face-to-face with her brother in the kitchen.

"Are you nuts?!" Pietro whispered fiercely. "Why do you want to start all that again?"

"Hey! I was just..." He cut me off sharply.

"Look, she's a lot happier with those memories gone, which means she'll stop looking for Magneto, which means she'll stick around here. Near you," he added on, putting emphasis on the 'near you.'

To this day, I still hate myself for what I said next.

"Uh-huhhhh, you got a point. Ok, I keep my mouth shut."

And I hopped away like it was no problem.

When I see the way she is now...it's a double-edged sword, you know? I'm so glad she's around, and that she's happy. But...it's all a lie.

And it eats me up inside.

I feel selfish for knowing the truth, and not telling her. I bet Lance and Freddy do, too.

Does it make me selfish, wanting her to stay around? It feels like it, when I know it's all a lie.

And so, the days go by, Wanda living her fake life, and my heart falling to pieces as I watch it happen.

It's Cupid's fault. If that stupid snot-nosed angel in a diaper hadn't made me fall in love with her, I wouldn't feel so miserable.

I tell myself that love keeps me from telling her, a poor attempt at making myself feel better. But I know it's a lie.

If I really loved her, I'd tell her. I would have told her the first chance I had.

But I didn't. I let Pietro convince me otherwise and I hate myself for it.

I hate myself more than I hate her brother. And Magneto.

I feel so bad for Wanda...her own family conspiring against her. Her father wiped her mind, and filled it with things untrue. And I let her brother convince me to not tell her.

And so, I don't tell her the truth.

I think back on that kiss we shared, back at the ski resort, after I freed her. I think that's why I don't tell her. That kiss. And the way she smiled at me, and said "thank you."

I owe Blue Boy for that, big time.

Her smile. Such a beautiful smile. I know it sounds lame, or girly, but I about fall to pieces when I see or think about her smile. Because it's so beautiful. And because she doesn't smile enough.

She used to hate me, when she first moved in. She tolerates me now. I think that's also why I don't tell her.

Does that make me selfish? Yep. I can't think of how it wouldn't.

I spend a lot of nights awake, laying in bed, trying to find some kind of answer.

I know some of the old memories still linger in her head. She has nightmares, sometimes. If I'm not already awake, they wake me up. It's kind of hard for it not to - lights explode, doors fall off, windows rattle violently. Same thing happens with Lance. Everyone knows when he has bad dreams - the whole house shakes.

I remember going to her room one night, when she woke everyone up with a nightmare. She was curled up under the blanket, shivering, with her back to me. I think I scared her more, when I touched her shoulder.

She flinched, jerking upright, her eyes wide with fear.

"Wanda? You ok?" I asked her.

"T..Todd?" she asked hesitantly, still shivering.

I nodded, but realized that did no good in the dark. "Yeah, it's me."

Only then did she start to relax.

"Another nightmare?" I asked her.

I could barely make out her nod in the dark. "It was the...the hospital again..." She interrupted herself as her body began to tremble. She was crying.

"It's ok," I said reassuringly, sitting down next to her. "It was only a dream." I couldn't really think of much else to say. There wasn't much to say. I knew that it wasn't a dream, that it was a snippet of a memory that was erased. She thought it was a dream, a recurring nightmare that she couldn't shake off. And it confused her: why would her father lock her away? And why would her brother stand back and watch? Seeing her like that made me feel like shit.

I was taken slightly aback when she suddenly wrapped her arms around me, resting her head on my shoulder. Any other guy would be happy if a girl let herself be so vulnerable around him, especially a girl like Wanda, but I couldn't, because I knew that it was fake.

I awkwardly put my hand on her head, running my fingers through the short black strands, and whispered to her. "It'll be ok. Everything will be ok."

But it wouldn't be ok.

It wouldn't be ok until I told her the truth, the whole story of that day at the mountain.

I wanted to just tell her, "Wanda, that's not a dream. It's real. Magneto had a mutant named Mastermind wipe your brain and replace your memories with fake ones. Your father locked you in a mental institution, and your brother stood back and watched. It's not real. Everything you know is a lie."

But I couldn't just tell her that. I was afraid. Afraid that she'd leave again, afraid that she'd take her anger out on me for not telling her. Afraid that she wouldn't believe me, and that she'd hate me forever.

It's a lose-lose situation for me, I guess. But that's what I chose the moment that I decided having a fake Wanda around was better than no Wanda.

I know that's wrong now, but I don't think I have the heart to tell her.

What I said must have helped her, because she reverted to her tolerance of me, pushing me away. As she settled herself back onto the bed, she whispered, "Thank you," before burying her face in the pillow.

I walked over to the door and stopped and bid her a good night. She looked up long enough to do the same, the tears still wet in her eyes. They were like daggers sinking into my heart.

And so the days go by and she still doesn't know. I want to tell her. Lance and Freddy want to tell her. But we don't. And it makes me feel like such a coward, doing that to a girl I'm madly in love with.

I know that one of us will tell her one day, or even one of those losers from the Institute. Cue-Ball would probably tell her in a red-hot minute, if he thought it meant she'd side with him against her father.

But there's that fear inside of me again. Afraid someone else will tell her, and she'll leave again, and be so angry with me that there's no way that I could fix it.

This is so damned confusing.

I don't know what to do.

I just don't know...